


I Know the Sound of Your Heart

by punchbowls



Category: IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris Lives, everyone remembers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25287064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punchbowls/pseuds/punchbowls
Summary: The Losers Club defeated Pennywise and are all finally on their way home. With Richie at his side, Eddie goes back New York to tell his wife he's leaving again, this time for good.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was definitely written with the 1990 miniseries characters in mind, but i fudged some things from the book and movie versions and my own headcanons are sprinkled in there lmao. thanks for clicking on my fic, hope you enjoy, and don't be shy to leave a comment!

Light rain splattered against the cab window and distorted the outside lights from other cars, streetlamps, and signs as Eddie Kaspbrak stared outside. He was almost to his house in New York and would soon be leaving it again. He found he didn’t feel so nervous about leaving as he thought he would have, but there with Richie Tozier sitting in the seat next to him after they had killed a monster from their childhood for good it was nigh impossible. 

In fact the thought of facing the trial that was his wife just made him feel tired. He’d been over every aspect of the life he lived outside of Derry, what had led up to it, all his own misjudgements, and well, just everything, and there was really no other way to fix it than to cut it off, quicker than ripping off a band-aid. Of course Myra deserved an explanation. She did love him, in her way; in the way he had wanted her to. They were both in the wrong in some ways, he supposed, but he also knew she wouldn’t give up without a fight. She’d be angry and then she’d cry and Eddie would feel like giving up. 

This time he wouldn’t give up though, like he hadn’t when he left for Derry. This time it’d be easier too, since it wasn’t just the thought of the others and Richie, Richie was there with him. Eddie doubted he’d feel like giving in to Myra Kaspbrak ever again. He ran his tongue over his teeth. Myra _Kaspbrak_. The name didn’t sound right. It never had. He was sorry he had asked her to make it her name. 

Richie’s fingers slipped around his where his hand rested on the seat and Eddie pulled his gaze away from the window to look at him. 

“You alright, Spaghetti Man?” 

Eddie pulled a frown, but squeezed Richie’s hand back. “Don’t call me that.”

Richie smiled at him as the cab pulled to a stop at the end of the driveway. Their hands separated and Eddie paid the driver before they both got out. They collected their stuff from the trunk and started up the long driveway. The rain had turned into a heavy mist that reflected around the yardlights and set the house in a warm glow. There was nothing warm in Eddie’s stomach as they approached and his mouth started to run. 

“I don’t want to leave you out in the rain, but I don’t know how Myra will react when I tell her I’m leaving- it’s not that I want to hide the fact that I’m in love with you, but dealing with her making that assumption on her own will be hell and I’d let you into the garage but I don’t know where in the house she is but-”

“ _Eddie_.”

A little gasp came out of Eddie’s throat and for a second he almost reached for the aspirator that wasn’t there. Richie dropped a bag and stopped Eddie from walking. Eddie winced as the bag landed in a puddle and splashed water. He almost went off that Richie’s belongings were going to get wet and they might get moldy during the trip back and more as Richie took Eddie by the shoulders. Words died in his throat when their eyes met though. 

“It’s made out of waterproof materials, Eds,” Richie said. His serious expression broke into a smile and Eddie breathed a shaky laugh. Richie hugged Eddie, and Eddie didn’t hesitate to return the embrace. “It’s gonna be ok, Eddie. You’re gonna do fine. It ain’t even really raining, otherwise you wouldn’t be hugging me here this long. You got that nice porch with an overhang there that I’ll hang out under as you sort things out, ok? I’ll be out of the way but right there if you need me. Sound good?”

Eddie took a slow breath as they pulled apart and nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Rich.”

Richie just nodded, then ruffled Eddie’s hair. Eddie scowled as they started walking again and he ran his fingers through it to right it. Eddie strode up the porch steps and Richie took a spot to the left as he unlocked the door. He left his things next to Richie and Eddie stole a look at him before going in and the space between them was filled with warmth and support. He took a deep breath and went inside. 

* * *

Low sounds of a TV show came from the TV as Eddie closed the door with a quiet click. He was startled when he heard Richie’s voice but realized with irony that it was still the TV. He could see the top of Myra’s head over the back of the recliner- his recliner- he noted as he peeked in from the entryway. A commercial for Richie’s show ended and one of the shows they watched regularly came on. It hit him that it was Thursday, at 9:00 PM. On a regular night, they’d be going up to bed in an hour. 

He held his breath, trying to will himself to open his mouth and say something to his wife. What should he say? Richie’s voice returned to his head, doing one of his voices. “Hiya, honey! I’m home! Not for long though, I’ve found someone much handsomer than you, yes ma’am, I’m off again. Hopefully see ya never!” 

Eddie swallowed and he felt his hands sweating. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, trying to force his mouth to open and say words. He contemplated walking past and going upstairs to just grab what he needed and sneak back out. But their bedroom was right above the TV room and he knew Myra would hear him. She’d probably think he was a burglar before realizing it was him and he didn’t want her calling the police. 

As he stood there contemplating all this, she suddenly gave a shriek and his attention was snatched back to what was happening before him. She had spotted him in the reflection of the TV screen as it had faded to black for a cut scene. Myra was up in seconds and with a speed that he didn’t understand that she had, she was on him. The healing wounds on his sides screamed in protest as she crushed him into a hug. Everything else inside of him recoiled in disgust as she pressed wet kisses, which he did not return, to his face and lips. 

She pulled away from him, sensing his aversion. He had a sort of rigid way about him, but her touch never went unreciprocated. The relief he had seen in the reflection of the TV had turned to an intense worry. 

“Eddie? Eddie dear, what’s wrong? What happened?” Her hands touched his face and forehead where lines of pain he’d rather hide were visible. His sides were still screaming. “I know you have bad news, Eddie, but you’ve not said a word since you’ve come in!” Myra’s voice dropped low. “Did you catch something there? Is it cancer?”

Eddie pushed her hands off of him. “You don’t catch cancer, Myra.”

“What is it then?!” she wailed and listed off half a dozen other diseases and illnesses. 

He shrugged her off again and stepped away. “I’m not sick, Myra! Please. Stop, please.” 

He started up the stairs with Myra close behind. He was sure his stitches were coming undone, but he didn’t dare utter a sound about it so he grimaced all the way up and let her do her frantic wailing. He caught a pause as they entered their room.

“I’m leaving, Myra.”

“Leaving? But you just got back.”

Eddie could feel moisture materializing on his forehead and palms again and shucked off his jacket before he started gathering his things. Some things he thought he had wanted didn’t seem important anymore. Myra stood in the doorway of their bedroom as he threw stuff into a bag, too confused and slightly shocked to do anything. Eddie bit hard on the inside of his lip, knowing he couldn’t beat around the bush. It was best to be out with it. He stopped in the middle of the room and the object he held in his hand caught his eye. It was one of Bill’s books he had bought a couple of years ago, when he had no idea who the author really was, and although he hadn’t really enjoyed the story- it was too frightening- he hadn’t been able to put the book down or get rid of it after. He had bought more books by Bill Denbrough and at the time, he couldn’t explain why. There was just something familiar and comforting how the guy wrote. Of course, Eddie knew now, and in this moment with the author photo looking up at him from the back cover, it was like Bill was holding his hand through this. So he held the book as the next words came out of his mouth. 

“I don’t love you Myra.”

Shocked silence. 

“I can’t be with you. I never loved you in a healthy way and I married you for unhealthy reasons. I-I can’t explain them to you, but I have to go,” he said. His knuckles were white around the spine of Bill’s book. 

“You’re sick, Eddie…”

“I’m not!” he snapped and Myra recoiled. “I may be- _this_ is- but Myra I’m not ill. There’s nothing wrong with me and I can’t go on living like there is. I am sorry, I dragged you into this.” 

He moved to the closet to grab the rest of his clothes. He yanked the string for the light, but it didn’t turn on. He clicked it again, but still nothing. The bulb must have burned out while he was gone. It didn’t matter, all his stuff was on one side anyway, and he grabbed it blindly. He grabbed as much as he could out with one hand, still clutching Bill’s book, and moved back to the bed where the bag was. 

Myra shrieked, making him jump in fright. “You’re bleeding!” she cried. 

Eddie looked down and sure enough a patch of blood had blossomed through his shirt. His stitches had come undone. _Shit_.

Myra made for the telephone on one of the nightstands and Eddie all but jumped over the bed to unplug it as she picked it up. It was a stupid move and he immediately regretted it. He shoved all the buzzing, frantic thoughts about what would happen if he kept moving like this away. 

“Don’t call an ambulance,” he said. His voice was thin and reedy as pain laced through his entire torso. “I just popped some stitches, it’s nothing I can’t fix myself.”

Truth be told he didn’t know if he could, he never had before and the idea usually made him queasy, but he knew the materials and tools to do so were in the drawer of his nightstand. He grabbed them out and shoved them in his pocket. 

“Eddie, what happened?”

“I have to leave, Myra. You can have the house and everything in it, but I’m going. A cab will be here in five minutes.” _Fifteen or so, really._

“Eddie, you’re sick! You’re injured!” 

“It’s not fatal!” _Not anymore anyway. Hopefully._

“There’s something wrong with you, Eddie!” _That much was true,_ but _he was getting better._ Tears formed in Myra’s eyes, but this time Eddie felt no sympathy. He felt like vomiting. 

He ducked under arms that reached for him and started for the closet again. Myra grabbed his sleeve and jerked him back. 

“Eddie, stop!” she cried. She yanked him closer, pressed his head against her chest and pet his hair. “It’s going to be ok, dear, but you have to stop. It’s for your own good. Let me call a doctor and we’ll get this sorted out. We’ll get you medicine, it’ll be okay.”

“No! You stop! Nothing is wrong with me!” Eddie’s voice was almost hysterical and he was aware he must sound insane- he felt like he was.

Myra shushed him wetly as she pulled him towards the doorway, on her way to retrieve another phone, still petting his hair and occasionally his face. 

“ _Stop it!_ ” Eddie shrieked. Finally, he somehow pulled away from her. “I’m not a child anymore! I’m leaving!”

His head swam as he spun back towards the closet. He really was feeling sick now, but it was nothing that was going to kill him. It was nothing that needed an ambulance or goddamn hospital. He grabbed another armful of clothes to throw in the bag, but when he reached the bed Myra’s arms closed around his entire body. His feet lifted off the ground and he panicked. 

“What are you doing? Put me down! Myra, put me down!” 

Pain shot through his sides and his feet kicked with no purchase. He was moved into darkness again and the light from their bedroom may as well have been the deadlights. But they weren’t and the darkness was his own closet and the thing gripping him was his wife. He screamed in frustration and Myra dropped him. He fell to the floor painfully but before he could move she shut the door and he heard the click of the lock. 

“ _NO!_ ” he shouted. 

He surged upwards towards the door to try and force it open. In the dark he misjudged the distance and when he slammed into the door his glasses slammed into his face painfully. 

“MYRA, LET ME OUT!” he turned the doorknob back and forth and slammed his shoulder into it, an action he instantly regretted. 

“This is for your own good, Eddie!” Myra cried on the other side. 

“LET ME OUT!” Eddie pounded on the door. His heart thundered against his chest and was somehow in his throat all at once. 

“I’m calling for help! You’re going mad, Eddie!”

“I’M NOT! I’M NOT! FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 27 YEARS I’M FINALLY NOT!” Eddie shouted. The only response was the sound of Myra running out of the room. He screamed her name again and pounded the closet door until the pain in his sides was too much and dropped to his hands and knees. Now he really did vomit, an action that made his sides hurt even more. When his dinner finished successfully exiting his body, Eddie fell completely to the ground. He gasped in lungfuls of air between a couple sobs. 

The only thing he could think before he blacked out was that he didn’t want to be alone in the dark with a monster again. 

* * *

When Eddie came to, he was still in the closet and a sour smell assaulted his nose. He heard Myra shrieking out words, but his brain didn’t process what they were. There was light when he opened his eyes and above him, Richie’s face swam into view. Relief flickered across it before he started getting Eddie up. 

“Maybe you should have just fucking listened to him!” Richie shouted back at Myra. He slung one of Eddie’s arms around his neck and pulled Eddie up. “For your information he was just in the hospital and the doctors found nothing wrong with him except for the immediate injuries!” 

“You don’t know him like I do! I bet you gave him those injuries, since you won’t tell me where they came from!”

“He knows me better than you ever have or will,” Eddie snapped. He gripped the fabric on Richie’s shoulder. 

“That’s not true, Eddie!” Myra persisted. Her face was red and wet with tears and she blubbered out the words.

“ _MYRA_!” Eddie shouted. She gulped back a hiccup and stared at him. “I’ve said everything I needed to say. There’s nothing either of us can do about the facts and now I’m going. Goodbye.”

Richie helped Eddie to the bedroom door and down the stairs. He would have carried him, if Eddie had asked, but Eddie wanted to _walk_ out of this place. Myra followed them, opening and closing her mouth without any words coming out. When they reached the front door, she finally found her voice and started shouting after them. 

They got to the curb just as the bad pulled up. Richie ran back to grab their bags and stuffed it all in the trunk. Eddie didn’t look back the whole time and soon he and Richie were finally driving away.


	2. Chapter 2

That night they stayed in a hotel near the airport. They didn’t need to be there until 10 the next morning, but Eddie could have boarded right then and there. Except for while they made a temporary bandage with a handkerchief, he and Richie hadn’t spoken the whole ride. Richie talked to the driver a couple times while he held tight to Eddie’s hand. Eddie held back, just as tight. He couldn’t stop shaking as adrenaline and anxiety coursed their way through his veins.

When they got to the hotel, Eddie promptly locked himself in the bathroom to deal with the stitches. Well, he didn’t lock the door, but kept it closed. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and willed his hands to stop shaking before beginning the task of stitching himself up. 

Richie knocked on the door after he brought all their stuff in.

“Eddie?”

“Come in, Richie.” 

“Hell,” Richie said at the sight before him. 

“I’ve got it.” Eddie couldn’t help the slight tone of insistence that crept into his voice as he worked. 

“I know,” Richie said softly. He sat on the counter on the opposite side of the sink of Eddie.

Eddie’s shoulders would have relaxed if he wasn’t stitching his own side back together. It wasn’t severe though and he made short work of it. Once he finished tying it off, a tremble returned to his hands. He stared at his handiwork, the bloodied towels, and needle. It suddenly seemed insane what he had just done, he should have gone to a doctor again, he should have-

Richie’s eyes met his and Eddie knew that he knew exactly what was running through his mind. Then the scroll of thoughts didn’t matter. He let out a heavy sigh he hadn’t known he was holding as he looked at Richie. 

“Fuck,” he said and Richie chuckled. Suddenly, Eddie was aware of how much everything hurt, but Richie produced the bottle of prescription painkillers and got him a glass of water from the sink.

“Thanks, Richie.”

“Of course, Eds.” He paused as Eddie swallowed the pills with the water and waited until he set the cup down. “You know, I didn’t think this would be the way I saw you shirtless for the first time.”

Eddie’s face flushed. “ _ Beep, beep _ , Richie!” he exclaimed, but he couldn’t hold back a little laugh. He winced as he did so and Richie’s face turned sympathetic. He jumped down and helped Eddie off the counter. 

“Let’s get you to bed, buddy,” he said. 

“I need my toothbrush,” Eddie said. 

“I’ll find it.”

“It’s in the bag with all the medicine.”

“Bag with all the poison, got it.” 

Eddie snorted and leaned against the counter until Richie brought back both their toothbrushes. They brushed together and then took turns using the toilet. 

“You want to go back for the rest of your stuff tomorrow?” Richie asked when they were settled in their separate beds. They hadn’t shared a bed yet, hadn’t really had a chance, and the hospital bed didn’t really count. They had each taken their own bed and Eddie wasn’t really sure why. Nothing had been spoken between them, but he guessed Richie wanted to give him space with the injury. 

Eddie didn’t want to go back for his stuff tomorrow. The only thing he really needed was his clothes, and he could just wash ones he had and always buy new ones when they got to California instead.

“No,” he answered quietly. “The only thing I’d miss are Bill’s books.”

He must have dropped the one he had been holding in the closet. It was probably next to his vomit. That was no place for one of Bill’s books. Suddenly he was aware of his eyes stinging and he stared up at the ceiling to prevent any tears from falling. 

“You okay?” Richie asked. 

“Yeah,” Eddie cleared his throat. “Tired.”

Richie nodded. “Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Night, Richie.”

Richie turned off the lights and Eddie noticed the bathroom light shone through the slightly open door. Richie had left it on as a nightlight. Eddie listened to him as he settled under the covers and after a few minutes heard his breath even out. Soon after that, Eddie drifted off too. 

When Eddie woke again, it was still dark save for the streak of light from the bathroom. The pain in his sides was a dull ache and he considered taking another aspirin. As he contemplated this, he heard what had woken him up in the first place and he froze. Richie was whimpering in the bed next to him. 

“Richie,” Eddie whispered, “Richie, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t reply and Eddie realized he was still asleep. Slowly he started to get up and noticed there was a glass of water on the nightstand and two of his painkillers. Richie must have woken up before and put them there and Eddie’s heart ached. But in a good way.

He swallowed them quickly then moved to Richie’s bed. His back was turned to him and Eddie carefully sat down next to him. He placed one of the extra pillows Richie wasn’t using in front of his middle just in case Richie lashed out as he escaped his nightmare. 

“Richie,” Eddie said gently, putting his hand on Richie’s shoulder. 

Richie woke up almost immediately and rolled onto his back frantically. 

“Eddie?” he asked. 

“Hey, Richie, it’s ok, you’re ok,” Eddie said. 

“IT got y-you,” Richie whispered wetly. 

“No it didn’t, I’m right here. See Rich?” Eddie said. He took Richie’s hands and guided them to the wounds on his sides and let them rest there lightly. 

Richie looked at him and sniffled, tears reflected the bathroom light and shone in his eyes. He sat up and Eddie pulled him into his arms. Richie’s arms found their way around Eddie’s neck. 

“IT’s dead, Rich. Stan’s probably back with his wife Patty by now. He said they’re going to try and have a baby again, now that IT’s dead. Mike’s going to come visit us in a month or two, depending on how his road trip route is. Bill’s still not dead after riding Silver down a crowded street with Audra. Lucky bastard’s lucky that stunt worked.” Richie’s shoulders shook slightly, but from quiet laughter. “Ben’s with Beverly, getting divorce papers worked out and ready to kick her husband’s ass together.

You’re right here with me, embarrassed because this is the first time you’ve seen me shirtless, and we’re  _ hugging _ ,” Eddie said this as if it were scandalous, and Richie laughed quietly again, “And I’m right here, Richie.”

He pulled back to look at Richie and cupped his face. “I’m right here, and I always will be.”

“I love you, Eddie,” Richie whispered. 

He sniffed and rubbed his nose on the sleeve of his t-shirt.

“Gross,” Eddie said when Richie looked back up, but he cupped his cheek again and kissed him anyway. 

When they settled into bed again, they shared it this time. Even though he wanted to curl himself around Richie, Eddie had to lay on his back.

“That’s okay, Spaghetti Man,” Richie said after Eddie complained about it. He rested his head on Eddie’s chest and added quietly, “I can hear your heartbeat better this way.”

Eddie almost moved so that he could kiss him again, but Richie had just gotten comfortable and he didn’t want to disturb him. He settled for running his fingers through Richie’s hair instead and once again stayed awake until Richie fell asleep.

* * *

When Eddie woke up the next morning, Richie was already awake and staring down at him. Eddie rubbed his face and returned the gaze.

“What?” he asked. 

“You’re beautiful.” Richie’s voice was so earnest and sincere Eddie could have thought he was still dreaming. Instead his heart leapt to his throat and he felt his face heat up. Then Richie laughed and leaned down to kiss him. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Eddie ran his hands through Richie’s hair and smiled up at him when they pulled apart. 

“You’re beautiful too.”

“Oh I know that already.”

Eddie snorted and pushed Richie’s face away then so he could get up. They got ready together and Eddie even managed a quick shower. It was more of a chore, but he felt infinitely better afterwards; especially when Richie massaged his head with a towel. 

“I could get used to this,” he commented. 

“You should,” Richie said. He planted an exaggerated kiss on his forehead with a loud  _ ‘mwah _ !’ and Eddie giggled. “You’re so stupidly cute, Eddie.”

“ _ You’re _ stupid cute.”

“Gross.”

“Hey Richie?” Eddie asked as Richie hung the towel up.

“Yeah?”

“I really can’t thank you enough,” Eddie said. He looked down at where his hands rested in his lap. “I really do appreciate you letting me come with you to California, and offering me a place to stay, and…  _ everything _ .”

“Eddie, Eddie,  _ Eddie _ ! Thank you for taking me up on the offer. Are you kidding me? My best friend, who I’m in love with and is in love with me is coming to live with me? My heart just might combust. I’ve wanted this for 27 years, without even knowing it.”

Richie sat down next to Eddie and gently lifted his chin so that they were looking at each other. 

“I know you feel like shit about everything that happened with Myra, but you’re taking steps to a better, healthier future.”

Eddie cocked an eyebrow. “Calling yourself a healthy future?”

Richie snorted and pressed his forehead to Eddie’s. “Yes. And you’re going to be my healthier future. We’re both going to grow together, like we were always meant to.”

Eddie smiled. “I didn’t know you were so wise and deep.”

“I could really ruin this moment with a dirty joke.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Eddie laughed. He kissed Richie’s nose and pushed him away playfully. Richie laughed and ruffled and gently tugged his hair. 

“We should head for the airport soon. You have your painkillers? The plane ride is gonna be  _ hell _ ,” Richie said. 

“Yeah, it’ll be time to take them again right before we board.”

* * *

Richie was right, the plane ride was hell. Even with the pain killers. But Richie kept him distracted enough when he wasn’t sleeping. He talked in his voices, read to Eddie outloud from one of Bill’s books they picked up in the airport, and they made fun of the magazines provided in their seats. It was a long, uncomfortable flight, but Eddie had the time of his life. Every mundane moment with Richie was to be cherished and something he couldn’t get enough of. 

Their first run in with turbulence sent Eddie’s hand to Richie’s as the shakes began. He didn’t miss the blush that spread on Richie’s face, and even when Eddie got used to the turbulence, he still grabbed his hand each time. It was funny, he thought, they both were on the same page of how in love they were with each other and how much they loved each other, but both of them still blushed and got flustered like school-boys with a crush. Well, they did have 27 years of catching up to do. 

Eddie took Richie’s hand as the plane touched down, and if they hadn’t had to carry their bags, they would have stayed that way all the way to Richie’s home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meant to update this yesterday but i spent all the free time i could listening to the IT audiobook bc it's so fucking long and im trying to finish it before it's due back to the library. if stephen king stopped writing about dicks and tits i'd be finished it by now jfc lmao


End file.
